Greasers Don't Cry
by MiriahoftheWind
Summary: This is in Darry's point of view. Darry reflects over the week when Ponyboy and Johnny run away.


Greasers Don't Cry

by

~Miriah~of~the~Wind~

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(A/N: This is in Darry's POV.)

"Pony, I didn't mean to!" I yelled but my youngest brother sped out of there into the night like the devil was after him. Most Greasers came to our house to chill for the night, but where would Ponyboy go? It was hours until there was a knock at the door. I breathed a sigh a relief. Pony come home but when I came to the door I found the fuzz standing there.

"Excuse me but are you familiar with a Jonathon Cade and a Ponyboy Curtis?"

"Yeah, Johnny's our friend and Ponyboy's my youngest brother..." I shivered as I looked at the cop all the while thinking, Oh God, Pony! What have I done to Pony?

"Well, as it seems. Johnny has just killed a young man by the name of Bob Sheldon in the local park and has ran away, Ponyboy has gone with him. Do you have any idea where they might have gone?" My mind race when he said this. To tell the truth, I really didn't know so much about my brother. Ever since mom and dad died we've always been at each other's necks. When ever we talked it was mostly arguing. I nodded no but added, "No, I'm sorry. If anything comes up, please, give us a call." 

"We'll keep in touch." he added and looked at me as though I was hiding him. I close the door and stared at it. I could hardly breathe. I hated this feeling, this helplessness. I knew there was only one thing to do. I walked down the hall and toward Pony and Soda's room. My second youngest brother Soda was sleeping in what seem like a peaceful sleep.

"Sodapop." I said softly shaking him gently.

"What's going on?" he asked groggily, "What time is it?"

"I dunno, Soda." he looked at me knowing that something was wrong. He sensed it in my voice and face.

"Soda, Ponyboy and Johnny have ran away. Johnny has just killed a Soc in the park. Ponyboy has gone with him." Soda just stared at me blankly.

"Bu- I- Pony-C-" Soda was too stunned to speak. It was the next day when I noticed problems. I had sent Sodapop to get the mail and he came back, gave me the bills and went and sobbed in his room. 

"Soda, are you okay?" I asked softly.

"N-no." Soda sobbed. Then he bawled even louder than that and I wonder if I would need a psychiatrist soon. This lasted for a week. We couldn't eat, we couldn't sleep. All through that time I thought; It's all my fault Ponyboy's gone, it's all my fault Soda is suffering, it's all my fault. A couple days later I recieved a call from the Police station that Johnny and Pony were heading toward Texas.The others in the gang tried to tell me that they would find them soon and Dally even told me that he's probably okay and that I shouldn't worry. Sometimes I could find myself hardly breathing. Lord, all I wanted was for my brother to use his head! I never wanted him to go through this. I tried to imagine what was happening right now. Him and Johnnycake stranded somewhere in Texas. Scared, cold, maybe even starving. Johnny was probably as pale as a ghost and maybe Pony would shop lift for some food and would have to go on trial as a thief. I knew that when the Police found them they might send Pony and Soda to a boy's home and I shuddered at that thought. My brothers were the only thing I had left. I remembered when Mom and Dad died Soda had bawled and Pony sob yet I didn't do anything but shove my fists in my pockets. Even though I didn't look it on the outside on the inside it was killing me softly and slowly. Then I thought again: What if, when Ponyboy was found, that he didn't want to come home? What if he told the judge that a boys home was better than being anywhere with me? So what if the judge thought I was a bad guardian and he took Soda away from me too? We were all that we had left.

After a week had blown by I heard Soda come into my room at 9:00 P.M.

"Darry!" he shook me furiously. I was still a little groggy but I jumped up at this next news.

"Darry, they've found Ponyboy! He's alive!" We were both up in a flash and soon we were in my ford goin' at sixty miles an hour. Thoughts raced through me head. What would Pony's reaction to me be? What would I say to him? What should I do? Finally we were at the hospital and there was Ponyboy Michael Curtis. Soda was the one who ran up to Ponyboy and grabbed him in one of his strong, tight, hugs that he was famous for and swung him around for a bit.

I could hear him sobbing, "Oh Ponyboy, your hair....your tuff, tuff hair..." I stood back aways. I was the one who smacked him. I was the one who made him run away. I'd probably never get his forgiveness.

"Ponyboy." I said huskily and I jammed my fists in my pockets. This was something I always did when ever tears streamed down my face. I never know what to do with my hands at times like these.

"Darry!" he cried out and then hugged me as hard as he could. I tried to keep back tears because, after all, we're greasers and greasers don't cry. I stroked his hair that he had bleached and chopped off so that it stuck out in funny places.

"Darry, I'm sorry..." he pleaded.

"Oh, Pony, I thought we'd lost you...like we did Mom and Dad..." I sobbed in spite of myself. So much for holding it in. Thank God, I thought. Pony was alive, he wanted to stay. Perhaps we had a chance at staying together. We walked back into the main hall to hear about Johnny and Dallas. There was a load of reporters there already and I wiped my tears away so they wouldn't see. Finally it was over.

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End file.
